Old Wounds
by Hogwarts Duo
Summary: "Mr. Carson, shall we…walk back together?" SPOILERS FOR SERIES 4: Charles and Elsie share a leisurely walk back to Downton after seeing Grigg off on the train. Can Charles Carson find the strength to heal old wounds and the courage to choose a new path with the help of his one true friend and constant companion, Elsie Hughes?


"Mr. Carson, shall we…walk back together?" Elsie scurried to catch up to him when he paused to consider her question, smiling to herself when he shuffled to place her to the inside, the way any gentleman would for his lady. They walked along in companionable silence until the Abbey came into view from a small rise in the road. Turning to look down, he studied her with unabashed curiosity, causing her to blush and turn her own gaze to study the tips of their shoes between them. What happens next?

They stood perfectly still, drinking in the sight of the impressive stone structure they called their home, their work, their lives. Elsie had formed a long list of questions in her mind, questions that had been plaguing her since she'd first read the letter and heard Grigg talk about things not being his fault. Her thoughts drifted back to those brief moments at the station as they stood in silence.

There was something exciting about seeing him as he appeared on the station platform, surrounded by the smoke from the train. There was something about her tall, handsome butler emerging from the billowing steam, confidant and proud yet with a deep sadness in his eyes that made her heart beat a litter faster. She had to bite her lip to contain the smile that threatened to break free. And then he spoke.

Seeing Charles at the train station, watching as he spoke softly to Grigg, she knew something serious had happened between the two old friends to cause such pain and anguish for Charles Carson.

To anyone else, Charles Carson could hide his emotions and thoughts on just about any subject. But, Elsie had spent far too many evenings with him, listening to what he said and more importantly, what he did not say. His voice, on this day, was filled with apprehension, curiosity, and a bit of weariness. No doubt, she had somewhat pressured him into at least hearing what Mr. Grigg had to say. She appealed to his good nature and his yearning for peace and harmony. In the end, it had worked. Now, however, her chest tightened a little, hoping Grigg would not make their parting words something she and Charles would both regret.

The walk back to Downton Abbey was filled with a companionable silence. He needed time to process what Grigg had said, to lay to rest whatever old wounds and feelings had been stirred up with the return of his old stage partner. He would tell her in his own way and in his own time. His anger and bitterness had not been born overnight, but he would tell her when he was ready. She merely had to stand by his side and patiently wait.

She did not have to wait as long as she had anticipated.

As they looked towards the house, Charles finally broke through the silence. "Thank you, Mrs. Hughes." His voice was soft and tender, yet it held that unmistakable rumble that had always excited her, intrigued her, soothed her better than any cup of tea or glass of wine.

She looked up from their shoes and gave him a bashful smile. "You owe me no thanks, Mr. Carson. I didn't do anything special."

He shook his head, unbelieving of her words. This woman had risked their friendship, his wrath, and so much more just because she saw that he was upset by a silly letter. A small smile curled about his lips. "I do owe you, so very much. I have never had someone in my adult life that would go to such great lengths just to see me happy or to worry over me. You could have let me wallow in my misery and bitterness. You could have left a poor man to waste away in those harsh conditions of the workhouse. You certainly could have let Mrs. Crawley linger in her depression and grief." He stopped walking and turned to face her. "You always take such good care of us. You're a kind woman, Mrs. Hughes."

She felt a blush creep into her cheeks. "I thank you for the compliment, Mr. Carson." She dared to reach out and grip his upper arm, giving it a gentle squeeze before dropping her hand to her side once more. It was good to see him smiling again.

He stood a little taller and breathed deeply, letting the crisp air fill his lungs before exhaling slowly. His gaze turned back to the house ahead of them. When he'd left this morning, he was weighed down with such dread and anxiety but now that oppressive force seemed to have lifted and he found himself feeling lighter. She had called it an open wound, something which needed stitching and time for healing, and she was correct. She always was.

He turned to face her, this time with a smile. "Shall we continue, then?" He offered her his arm, which she gratefully accepted and they set off once more towards the house. But instead of going towards the servants entrance, Charles began to steer them towards the large tree on the outskirts of the lawn where there was a bench. When they neared it, he released her arm and brushed the bench with his handkerchief before indicating that he'd like for her to sit with him.

Elsie was more than a little surprised but still did not say a word, did not ask any of the questions running through her mind. It was his story to tell in his own time. It was his wound to heal and she had no intentions of making things harder for him. She only wanted to help, in whatever way that was.

Charles took a seat beside her and stared straight ahead. A silence born from years of friendship and appreciation settled between them. It seemed to stretch on and on, the only sounds coming from the birds overhead or the deep sighs which sometimes escaped past his lips.

"You once asked if I'd ever wished I'd gone another way," he said in a soft voice. He did not turn his head to see if she was staring at him. He knew those eyes would be his undoing. Elsie Hughes held such compassion for those she cared for, and right now, he felt he was at the top of her list.

"And I seem to recall you answering me with the same question directed at myself," she teased lightly. "Very crafty, Mr. Carson."

This time he did turn to look at her, drinking in every single detail of her face and the sincerity in her eyes. "I did not answer you directly because I wasn't sure. I did not have all the answers to my questions."

"And now you do?"

He nodded. "I showed you the picture of Alice," he began gently. "I thought we were in love. I was planning to marry her and start a life, but then one day she up and announced that she and Charlie had been chatting. In the end, she chose him over me." He shook his head as if to clear away some of the cobwebs. "He always was more popular with the ladies. Must have been his flirtatious ways and his outgoing nature, of which I seem to possess none."

Elsie scoffed. "I wouldn't say that at all. I've never found an overly flirtatious man to be appealing. They're too hard to read. You can never tell when they're sincere. It's the quiet ones that know how to flirt but retain that sincerity that are attractive. I'm sure that's what drew Alice to you in the first place."

"Either way, she did not stay with me. She chose him, and apparently I have been holding the grudge against the wrong person. Charlie told me today that they hadn't lasted very long. She confessed to him, before she died, that she chose poorly. She said she could have loved me; we could have made a go of it, you see."

"I see," Elsie answered quietly. He was still avoiding the question despite having raised it himself.

"No, I don't think you do. You see, Mrs. Hughes, when you asked me that question all those years ago, the answer was a bitter one for me to admit. I would have wished for another life, one with Alice, a home of our own, children … things I thought I'd missed by going into service after having a broken heart." He shifted on the bench and turned to fully face her. "But now … knowing what I know now … it would have been all wrong. It's one thing to think you could love someone and something entirely different to be in love with that someone. She didn't say she loved me or wanted me, only that she could have loved me. If someone else had come along and turned her head, I may have been broken hearted anyway. Everything happens for a reason, though, for that heartache brought me to Downton and to this position I enjoy now."

"I know something of that sort of love, Mr. Carson. Joe Burns loved me a great deal more than I ever loved him. We could have made a family, run a farm together, lived comfortably, but it wouldn't have been right. I was never in love with him and he deserved someone who could return his love unconditionally."

"Ask me again, Mrs. Hughes, please?"

She looked at him, confused for a moment before she realized what he wanted.

"Do you ever wish you'd gone another way? Worked in a shop or factory? Had a wife and children?"

He reached over and covered her hand with his, his glove and hers the only barrier between the warmth of their hands. "No," he said resolutely. "For all the past regrets and years wasted pining over a woman that wronged me and a best friend that betrayed me, I do not wish I'd chosen another path, for the path I chose led me to you, Mrs. Hughes."

Elsie felt butterflies spring to life in her stomach and a deep heat settle in her cheeks. Her heart was beating faster than it had in years. "And the same can be said for me, Mr. Carson. Had I settled for anything less, I would be a farmer's wife instead of the housekeeper here with you."

Charles cleared his throat and gave her hand a squeeze. "Mrs. Hughes … Elsie … it may take me some time to fully put this behind me, but in a few weeks, perhaps, do you think we might schedule our half day off together?"

Her eyes brightened and she nodded. "I'd like that very much, Charles." She gave his hand a squeeze in return and placed her free hand on top of his. "You take as long as you need to heal that wound. I'll not be going anywhere."

For the first time that day, she saw her butler smile in such a way that it lit up his eyes and she noticed how his shoulders no longer slumped in defeat but he sat straight and proud. "Funny how things have a way of sorting themselves out for the best, isn't it? All these years we've worked together, making an unbeatable team. I hope that maybe we could discuss, when we're both ready of course, expanding our friendship, testing new waters together."

She nodded and scooted a little closer to him on the bench. "You once said to me that I'd never desert you, and you were right. I'll not leave you, Charles Carson, and I hope that thought makes you a happier person."

"Elsie Hughes, I hope you don't have anything pressing to do this evening. I would very much like to share a glass or two of wine with you this evening. We have much to discuss."

"More news about the past? Don't tell me you were also a member of the French Foreign Legion back in the day?"

He laughed heartily. "Hardly, but I do know some French phrases. If you're a good girl, perhaps one day I'll share them with you."

She giggled and nudged his shoulder with hers. "I think you'll find, Charlie, that I'm hardly that farm girl anymore and life has altered me, as it's altered you. And what would be the point of living if …"

He held up his hand to stop her. "… If I didn't have you by my side, Elsie."

Later that evening, Charles poured them each a glass of wine as they sat close together on her settee. "To Charlie Grigg and Alice Neale," he offered in the way of a toast. "They will never know how their painful actions so many decades ago have brought us immeasurable happiness now."

Elsie clinked her glass to his and drank to the toast, silently sending up a word of thanks to the guiding force that nudged her to retrieve that letter from his waste basket. She did not set out to alter their lives in such a profound way, only to help a friend in need. Her bold actions and efforts were now being rewarded with a bright future ahead, side by side with the man she'd fallen in love with slowly but surely. These were definitely going to be the golden years for Elsie and her butler named Charlie Carson.

**The End (aka, the beginning of the golden years)**


End file.
